


A Beautiful Miracle

by Dragon_in_Disguise



Series: The Fourth Milkovich [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, Angst, EMT Ian Gallagher, F/M, Fighting, First Dates, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Hurt Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Mickey Milkovich Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, Original Character(s), Past Rape/Non-con, Pregnancy, Pregnant Svetlana Milkovich, Protective Cotton Top Mounts, Protective Ian Gallagher, Protective Iggy Milkovich, Protective Mandy Milkovich, Teasing, Therapy, Twins, mentally challenged, sibling fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:06:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24387919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_in_Disguise/pseuds/Dragon_in_Disguise
Summary: Everything is starting to look up for the Milkovichs - Mickey and Ian have settled down into their new home, Iggy and Mandy have found a balance with money, and Cotton is getting closer and closer to his crush. However, everything comes to a screeching halt when a familiar face comes back to slap Mickey with the worse news ever.-Aka, an AU inspired by tyronexx where Cotton Top Mounts and Mickey Milkovich are twins and a direct sequel toMoving Forward From Home
Relationships: Ellison "Cotton Top" Mounts & Svetlana Milkovich, Ellison "Cotton Top" Mounts/Original Female Character, Fiona Gallagher/Iggy Milkovich, Ian Gallagher & Ellison "Cotton Top" Mounts, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Iggy Milkovich & Ellison "Cotton Top" Mounts, Iggy Milkovich & Mandy Milkovich, Iggy Milkovich & Mickey Milkovich, Lip Gallagher/Mandy Milkovich, Mandy Milkovich & Ellison "Cotton Top" Mounts, Mandy Milkovich & Mickey Milkovich, Mickey Milkovich & Ellison "Cotton Top" Mounts, Mickey Milkovich & Svetlana Milkovich
Series: The Fourth Milkovich [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684318
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	A Beautiful Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> Man, this story is a roller coaster of emotions. Took me so long to get done because of everything that happens all at once. Disclaimer: the r/pe scene from the first story is mentioned and discussed multiple times in this story. 
> 
> I do NOT take credit for this idea. This was inspired by tyronexx who wrote two one-shots about this AU. Also, this is a direct sequel to _Moving Forward From Home_ and I highly recommend reading that first (along with the first two stories _Unknown Milkovich_ and _Struggles in the Milkovich Home_ )

Mickey hisses lightly in relief as he removes the bandages from his chest, a very dull ache sparking for a moment before disappearing entirely. He tosses the wrappings onto the counter, puffing out his chest a bit and looking at himself in the mirror. His skin is scarred over where the bullet hit on his chest, running his fingers over the scar gently. He grimaces at how close he lost his life, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. 

He opens his eyes again when he feels hands slide over his waist, looking in the mirror to find Ian standing behind him. He smiles, tilting his head back to meet Ian in a gentle kiss. Ian’s hand trails up and threads through Mickey’s, resting over his scar. “Hurt at all?” 

“Not anymore,” Mickey hums, turning in his arms to face him. “Can finally breathe again. Felt like a fucking binder.” 

“And you know how a binder feels because?” Ian raises a brow, dipping his head down to nuzzle Mickey’s neck. 

“Mandy had one when we were younger because she didn’t like the idea of being the only one in the house with boobs,” Mickey snickers, feeling Ian laugh against his neck. “We all tried it out for shits and giggles. She got rid of it maybe a month later.” 

“That… is not the answer I was expecting,” Ian chuckles, kissing up the side of his neck. 

“I’m full of surprises, huh?” Mickey teases. He yelps softly when Ian grabs his hips and lifts him onto the bathroom counter, spreading his legs so Ian can stand closer to him. “Don’t you have work?” 

Ian hums and nips the shell of his ear. “I got time.” 

“Thank fuck for vacation days,” Mandy sighs, pouring herself a cup of coffee Iggy made earlier. “I’m starting to lose feeling in my back.” 

Iggy snorts, shuffling through their mail. “Should get that checked out.” 

“Like we can afford anything,” Mandy rolls her eyes, taking a seat next to him at the table. 

“You’d be surprised,” Iggy hums, setting their bills aside. “Found out some Northsiders are desperate to get their hands on the shit I sell. May or may not have upped the prices for them.” 

Mandy smirks, kicking him under the table. “Clever little shit.” 

“I try.” 

“Bye, guys!” Cotton shouts as he exits his room, heading for the front door. 

“Where’s he going?” Iggy asks, watching their brother check his pockets for his things. 

“His girlfriend is giving him a ride to work,” Mandy grins into her cup. 

Cotton’s head snaps up at that, shooting her an annoyed pout. “She’s not my girlfriend, Mandy. She’s my friend.” 

“Who you have a crush on,” Mandy points out. 

“Bye!” he says, closing the door behind him with a wave. Mandy snickers, setting her cup down. “Too easy.” 

Iggy grins, opening up one of their bills. “Girlfriend, huh?” 

“He’s crushing on her hard,” Mandy sighs, snatching one of the letters to open. “It’s cute.” 

“She the one with blonde hair? Uh- right, Blake?” 

“Yup.” 

Iggy shakes his head, chuckling a bit under his breath. “Not bad.” 

“Wanna smoke?” Blake asks Cotton, kicking open the back door to step out. 

“I don’t smoke,” Cotton shrugs, following her out. Today is a slow day for everyone - Cotton already cleaned up the used dishes and wiped down every table. Currently, only two tables were being used and Blake wasn’t waiting either of them. 

“Good choice,” she hums, lighting the stick settled between her lips. She inhales slowly before removing it, smoke flowing from her nose. “Bad habit.” 

Cotton grins a bit. “Then why do you do it?” 

She shrugs, tapping ash off of the end. “Habit. Gets some stress off my shoulders for a little bit.” 

“Oh, that explains why all my siblings do it,” Cotton says, leaning against the brick wall. “Do you have siblings?” 

“Sadly, no,” she sighs, taking another drag. “Only company I got is my baby, Mia.” 

Cotton smiles at the mention of her dog. “What about your boyfriend?” 

Blake makes a face, chuckling a bit. “I fucking wish. I’ve been single for years, man.” Cotton tries to ignore the spike in his heartbeat, looking up at the sky to try and hide his smile. He’s not sure if that works. “What about you, ladies man?” she asks, knocking her fist against his shoulder gently. 

Cotton turns red, hunching his shoulders up. “I’ve never had a girlfriend.” 

“What?” she scoffs, stubbing her cigarette out. “Seriously? A guy as cute as you is bound to have some girls trailing after him.” 

Cotton’s eyes widen a fraction, biting his lip and turning redder. “Uh- well- I kind of… never got out of the house? My mom pulled me out of school when I was shown to be mentally challenged. The only girls I really knew for a long time were my mom and sister.” 

Blake lets out a whistle, pulling open the back door. “That makes more sense. Kind of shitty though - pulling you out of school like that. Did you get any education?” 

“Iggy home-schooled me when mom left,” Cotton answers, following her inside. He bumps into her back when she stops dead, turning to look at him. 

“Your mom left?” 

“Yeah,” he shrugs, looking down. “Dunno why.” 

She frowns but nods, continuing back into the dining room. “Did you get any special programs to help?” 

“Special programs?” 

“You know, like therapy,” she shrugs, moving over to the recently vacated table to clean off the dishes for him. “Help with social skills and all of that.” 

Cotton takes a moment to answer. “No, actually… I’ve never seen anybody about this since I was diagnosed.” 

Blake looks up in surprise. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, you’re doing extremely well without therapy,” she shakes her head, handing him the bucket of dirty dishes. “My aunt- she has a separation anxiety disorder. Spent her teenage years without any help and it almost got herself killed.” 

“How?” Cotton asks, leading the way to the kitchen.” 

“Suicide.” Cotton stops and looks at her with wide eyes. She smiles weakly. “Yeah, my aunt got really scared one night and her thoughts became… It was a tough night for my ma, since that’s her sister and all. But they got her help. Get her to the point where she can be by herself without issue.” 

“Wow,” Cotton murmurs, setting the bucket down next to the sink. “Do I need therapy?” 

Blake looks him over, tilting her head in thought. “It wouldn’t hurt, but that’s up to you. You seem to be just fine, honestly.”

“I do?” he frowns. 

“Just cause you talk like a kid would sometimes and occasionally get lost in la la land doesn’t mean you can’t function like every other person in this joint,” she states, squeezing his arm gently before walking out of the kitchen. “Gonna go talk to Sean.” 

Cotton nods, watching her go with a soft smile growing on his face. 

“Thank fuck she’s single,” Mickey grins, elbowing Cotton in the ribs as they walk. “Why haven’t you grown a pair and ask her out yet?” 

Cotton flushes, pouting at his twin in annoyance. “I’ve never dated before, Mick.” 

“Neither have I, and look where I am,” Mickey shrugs, pulling out his wallet as they approach the ice cream truck Cotton pointed out a few minutes ago. “Got a hot boyfriend, good sex, nice apartment-” 

“Mick,” Cotton whines, shoving him. “You at least understand social cues!” 

“Since fucking when?” Mickey laughs, eyebrows shooting up. 

Cotton rolls his eyes. “Nevermind, we have that in common too.” 

“Fuck off,” Mickey snorts, ignoring the glare a mother sent him. “Okay, I don’t know a whole lot about dates. Fuck, Ian technically started out relationship without even asking me.” 

“Sure,” Cotton rolls his eyes again. 

Mickey punches his shoulder lightly. “Shut up. The point is- through her some hints? Show her you’re interested? I don’t know, maybe she’ll ask you and save you the trouble.” 

“I thought boys had to do the asking?” 

“First off, I’m a guy, and I didn’t ask.” 

“You’re also gay.” 

“No, I just like having a man’s dick in my ass.” 

“Mickey!” 

“Okay, okay! Jeez,” Mickey huffs. “Look, girls can ask a guy out if she wants. There are no invisible rules stating the dude has to do all the planning and asking, you know?” 

“I guess,” Cotton mutters, staring distractingly at the picture of ice cream on the truck. 

Mickey nudges him to get his attention back. “Maybe try asking her out for coffee? Most cliche date ever, but it’s a start.” 

“Okay,” Cotton nods. The two put a pause on their conversation when they reach the truck, quickly ordering and moving on to sit on one of the park benches. Cotton takes a chunk out of his fudge bar before he speaks again. “What if she doesn’t like coffee?” 

Mickey huffs, swallowing down a spoonful of his chocolate ice cream. “Take her to lunch then. The point of a first date is to get to know someone you’re interested in. Where doesn’t really matter.” 

“Did you and Ian ever go on a first date?” 

Mickey tilts his head back as he thinks. “Sort of? The day I took you to meet him was considered somewhat of a date with a third wheel.” 

Cotton pouts. “What about after that?” 

Mickey shrugs. “Yeah, we’ve gone on a few lunch dates, I guess. Nothing too special.” 

“You should take him out to dinner,” Cotton grins. “Somewhere fancy and quiet.” 

He scoffs. “We’re both not really into that sort of thing.” 

“What’s that thing mom and dad did whenever they kicked us out of the house when we were kids?” 

Mickey frowns for a moment. “What- date night?” 

“Yeah!” 

“First off, me and Ian aren’t married. Date night is kind of a married thing.” 

“Ugh, you’re impossible to deal with,” Cotton grumbles. “Why don’t you surprise him?” 

“Surprise him how?” Mickey asks. 

“Like- I don’t know,” Cotton chews on the inside of his cheek, eyebrows furrowed. “Make him dinner before he gets home and do cute couple things for the night?” 

“Why can’t I make him dinner and have him fuck me?” Mickey asks with a smirk. 

“Gross, and because that’s all you two ever do,” Cotton points out. “It’d be a sweet gesture! Put on a movie, make popcorn, cuddle and stuff. Something cute!” 

Mickey stares at his brother curiously, considering the idea. It’s been a little over two weeks since the two moved into their new home and every moment of free time they have is spent fucking around. Whenever they aren’t fucking, they’re sort of just chilling. Nothing special, really.

“How did this conversation turn on me, huh?” Mickey laughs it off. He’ll think more on it later. “Let’s talk about your girlfriend some more.” 

“Not my girlfriend!” 

Iggy hands Mandy cash as he slides by her into the kitchen. “Use that to fill up the tank before work. I’m going out with Joey and Jamie in a couple of hours.” 

“Thanks,” she nods, stuffing the cash into her pocket. “Cotton has the day off. You doing anything illegal?” 

“Obviously, why?” 

“Was gonna see if you could take Cotton with you,” she huffs, buttoning up the top buttons of her shirt. “Maybe call Mickey?” 

“Is Cotton still shaky on his own?” 

“Sometimes,” Mandy shrugs, adjusting her sleeves. “I don’t know. Talk to him before you go - see where his head is at.” She grabs her weird squirrel hat and waves as she heads out, not waiting for Iggy to respond. 

He sighs when the front door shuts, running a hand through his hair. He never really liked involving Cotton in their illegal business. Ever since Mickey got shot, Cotton has been having a tough time being alone. A couple nights after Mickey moved out, Cotton experienced one of his night terrors again. It took both Iggy and Mandy to calm him down, reminding him Mickey is still alive and living with Ian now. 

“Morning!” Cotton says happily, skipping - yes, fucking skipping - past Iggy into the kitchen. Iggy seriously wonders how his two younger brothers are even twins. “We gonna have a brothers day, Ig?” 

Shit, when’s the last time that happened? “We can hang for a few hours, but I have to go out with our cousins later.” 

Cotton pauses, looking over at him curiously. “Illegal?” 

“Sadly.” 

“Oh,” Cotton frowns for a moment before shrugging, face brightening up again. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“I think Blake gets off around seven. I might call and see if we can hang out,” he hums, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. 

“You’re little girlfriend?” Iggy grins, sitting down at their table. 

“First off, not my girlfriend,” Cotton sneers, shooting him a look of annoyance. “And second, I wouldn’t call her little. She’s taller than you.” 

“Don’t remind me,” Iggy grumbles. “I’m terrified of women who have a couple inches on me.” 

“Good, cause she can throw a punch,” Cotton grins, shoving a spoonful into his mouth. 

The two chuckle for a moment, looking up when there’s a knock on the door. Iggy grunts and checks his waistband for his gun, heading over to the door and peering through the peephole. He frowns, glancing back at Cotton before pulling open the door. “Who the fuck are you?” 

“Is Mickey Milkovich here?” Cotton looks up at the sound of a woman’s voice, peering over the counter at the door. He can’t see past Iggy from the angle, quickly abandoning his food to come to his side. 

“Who’s asking?” Iggy crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame. Outside stands a woman - a very pregnant woman. She’s wearing a heavy jacket in the lukewarm spring air, seeming to try and hide the fact she’s very pregnant. Cotton frowns, taking in her appearance. She looks disheveled and worn out, hair messy under her beanie. 

“Who the fuck else?” she snaps at his brother before she looks at him. The anger quickly leaves her eyes. “You Mickey, yes?” 

Her voice is thick with a Russian accent. Cotton quickly catches onto what she’s asking, shaking his head. “No, I’m Cotton. Mickey is my twin brother.” 

She huffs, shifting on her feet nervously. “Where can I find him?” 

Cotton and Iggy look at each other - one annoyed, one curious. Iggy sighs heavily and pokes his head out the door to peer down the street. “He lives down the road about five minutes from here.” 

She follows his gaze, face twisting in confusion. Cotton bites his lip, rocking back on his heels for a moment. “We could take you? Our sister took the car so we’ll have to walk-” 

“We?” Iggy looks at him. “Cotton, I got shit to do.” 

“Iggy, she’s pregnant,” Cotton snaps back. “Least we could do is make sure she doesn’t get hurt since we can’t give her a ride.” 

Iggy narrows his eyes at his kid brother for a moment before groaning reluctantly, moving aside to grab his shoes. The woman looks relieved, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. Cotton smiles at her, tilting his head curiously. “What do you need Mickey for?” 

She looks uncomfortable. “Private matters.” 

“Okay, he says brightly, catching her off guard. 

She clears her throat after a moment, holding out a hand to him. “Svetlana.” 

Cotton beams at the name, shaking her hand. “Pretty name. My real name is Ellison.” 

“Where did Cotton come from?” she asks. 

“Chit chat later,” Iggy grumbles, stepping out and beckoning Cotton to follow so he can lock the door. “Let’s get going.” 

“Can I take a shower in peace, dammit,” Mickey laughs when he feels Ian’s hands slide down his hips, elbowing his boyfriend in the gut. “You already got me this morning.” 

“I can never get enough of you,” Ian purrs, nuzzling into the crook of his neck with a low chuckle. “It’s my day off. Can’t I live a little?” 

“My ass can only take so much,” Mickey snorts, tilting his head back against Ian’s shoulder. 

“Want me to kiss it better?” Ian murmurs into his ear. Mickey bites his lip while Ian slides down onto his knees behind him, bracing an arm against the wall while Ian grips his hips tightly, steadying him. 

The two pause when there’s a pounding on their front door. Mickey groans, stepping out of Ian’s hold and ripping the curtain open. “How the fuck did I just get cock blocked in my own house?” 

Ian laughs, pulling the curtain closed after Mickey steps out. “Thought your pretty ass couldn’t take it?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Mickey sneers, drying himself off. “I’m stealing your clothes.” 

“Hey!” 

Mickey snickers, pulling on Ian’s tank-top and sweats. Loose and comfortable for a good day off with Ian. Of course, it’d be better if someone wasn’t pounding on his fucking door. 

“I’m coming! Christ,” Mickey huffs, walking through their apartment to the front door. He rips it open, annoyance softening a bit when he sees Iggy and Cotton. “The fuck you want?” 

“This chick wanted to see you,” Iggy shrugs, sliding past Mickey into his apartment. 

“Who?” Mickey asks, looking past Cotton at the other figure on his porch. Their eyes connect and his blood runs cold. 

Memories rush back in a tidal wave, hitting him square in the chest with as much force as the bullet that pierced his skin months ago. The bruises, the blood, the gun, the woman riding him in front of the man he was growing to like - all of it hits him as soon as it registers who is standing behind Cotton. 

“Mick?” Cotton asks softly, looking at him worriedly. 

Mickey’s throat tightens, his tongue thick in his mouth. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

She shifts on her feet, stepping closer to where Mickey stands frozen. “We need to talk.” The second thing he notices is her stomach. Oh fuck, she’s pregnant. He suddenly can’t breathe. 

“Mick?” Cotton says again, grabbing onto his shoulders. Mickey isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s not looking at anything, face twisted in pain and eyes glinting with fear. “Mick, hey!” 

“What’s wrong?” Iggy asks, coming closer. 

Cotton shakes Mickey a bit before they’re interrupted. “What’s going on out here?” Ian’s cheerful voice reaches them, seeming to snap Mickey out of it enough to step away from the door, struggling to take in air. Cotton moves to follow, but Ian finally notices the scene. His smile disappears and he quickly moves to Mickey, grabbing him and looking him over. “Mick, hey, look at me. Breathe, babe. Breathe.” 

Mickey grips onto Ian tightly, pressing his forehead against his chest and squeezing his eyes shut. No, this can’t be happening. This _can’t_ be happening! He was getting better, dammit! 

Ian waits until Mickey starts to take in deep breaths to look at the others. “The fuck did you-” He cuts himself off, doing a double-take at the sight of the woman beside Cotton in his doorway. His eyes widen briefly before narrowing, teeth bared into a scowl. “What is she doing here?”

“She wanted to see Mickey,” Cotton answers softly, confused. She looks uncomfortable, jaw locked tight and eyes avoiding everyone else. 

“Get out!” Ian snaps, startling the three people in front of him. “Get her the hell out of here!” 

“What- why?” Iggy says this time, frowning heavily. 

Mickey winces, grip tightening on Ian’s arms. Ian takes a deep breath, speaking through clenched teeth “She’s the prostitute Terry hired.” 

It takes a few tense moments for the two brothers to realize, eyes widening and mouths dropping. Iggy becomes angry first, whirling on her and backing her up into Cotton. “You’re the bitch who raped my brother?” 

She freezes when she backs up into Cotton, looking up at him with wide eyes for a moment. “No, I-” 

“Get the fuck out!” Iggy shouts, grabbing her arm and yanking her to the door. Cotton watches, confused and angry and upset. His twin is having a panic attack just a few feet away, his rapist just a foot to his right. Cotton wants to throw up. 

Svetlana yanks her arm out of Iggy’s hold, turning to face Ian before Iggy can grab her again. “It’s his!” 

Silence falls, thick with anger and horror. Mickey slowly turns to look at her, eyes red and face pale from shock. She swallows, adjusting her jacket and standing up straight again. “Child is yours.” 

“How do you know?” Mickey says, voice cracking a bit. 

“No use protection with you seven months ago,” she answers. “Time matches. It’s yours.” 

Everyone looks at Mickey, unsure of his reaction. He stares at her for a long moment, clenching and unclenching his hands and chewing on his bottom lip nervously. He shakes his head finally. “No.” 

“No?” she asks, unsure. 

“Get the fuck out of my house,” he grits out. 

Her eyes widen slightly in alarm, stepping closer. “Wait-” 

“Don’t fucking come near us,” Ian snaps, moving in front of Mickey. “Don’t you ever come looking for us again.” 

She steps back, mouth open but no words coming out. Iggy grabs her arm again. “You heard them. Out!” 

“Wait,” Cotton steps forward, frowning at them. “Wait, are we just gonna throw her out?” 

“Obviously,” Iggy growls. 

“Dude, she’s pregnant!” Cotton gestures to her. 

“Does it look like any of us care?” Iggy gestures to himself and the other two men a few feet away. “Cotton, she raped Mickey!” 

Cotton tenses up, conflicted now. Part of him is furious with the woman in front of him for doing those awful things to his brother, but part of him is scared - not for her, but for the child. He remembers the woman who did this to Mickey was a prostitute - was she still one? Why did she run to Mickey, the victim in this whole scenario, instead of family? Does she even have family?

Next thing he knows, he’s standing in front of her with Iggy backing away from him, eyes wide. He blinks, feeling a stinging sensation in his palm. He must’ve slapped Iggy’s arm away from Svetlana. He looks around at the others, quickly regaining his thoughts. “She’s pregnant, Ig. I-I know this is pretty crappy, but we can’t just throw her out. Please.” 

Iggy narrows his eyes again. “The fuck do you want us to do?” 

“She stays with us for a little bit,” he says and immediately regrets it. Not because he’s against the idea, but because of the look on Mickey’s face. He freezes at the hurt, the betrayal on his brother’s face. Cotton opens his mouth but Mickey’s gaze hardens and he storms off, a door slamming near the back of the apartment. Ian closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to cool himself down. Cotton swallows, feeling his hands starting to tremble. No, he will not break down right now. “She stays with us,” he states firmly, looking at Iggy. “At least until I know she has a place for that baby.” 

“Why do you fucking care, Cotton?” Iggy says lowly, stepping up to them, almost nose to nose with the blonde. He’s pissed off, Cotton can tell. He struggles to hold his ground. 

“It’s not the baby’s fault,” he answers, voice soft. “The baby deserves a chance, not to be born on the side of the road because nobody cared about the mother.” 

Iggy shakes his head, glancing at Svetlana with a look of disgust. “What a brother you’re turning out to be, Cotton,” he growls, catching him off guard. “Fine. Take care of our brother’s rapist. Good fucking luck with that.” 

Cotton watches as he slips past them and marches out of the house. Svetlana turns to him, eyes a bit wide. He looks back at Ian, mouth dry. “I-” 

“Just go,” Ian breathes, rubbing his face. “Please…” 

“Why you do that?” Svetlana asks. 

“Do what?” Cotton glances at her, looking through the cabinets for some food. 

“Let me stay,” she clarifies. “You’re brothers don’t particularly like me.” 

“With good reason,” he shrugs. “I’m worried about the baby.” She nods, looking down at her stomach. Her hands rub over her bump, finally out in the open without her jacket on. Cotton walks back over, setting down a bowl of cereal in front of her. He sits down next to her with his own bowl, shooting her a quick smile. “Can I ask you some questions?”

“Sure,” she hums, swirling a spoon through the milk and cereal, slightly confused since it was almost one. 

He takes a bite before continuing. “Do you not have family nearby?” 

“All family in Russia,” she answers. “I can’t leave.” 

“Why?” 

“My father sold me,” she shrugs, making Cotton choke at her answer. “It’s why I still work for last seven months.” 

“Wait, you’ve been working this whole time?” he asks, eyes wide. “You’re a prostitute, right?” She nods. “What the heck?” 

“I barely pay rent for shitty apartment,” she shrugs. “Must work if I want to live. But I’ve been let go for next two months to finish pregnancy. I have nowhere to go.” 

“Is that why you came looking for Mickey?” 

“Yes.” 

“Even though you raped him?” Cotton’s voice hardens. 

She winces, looking down again. “You think I wanted to? Big man had gun in hand, was fully capable of shooting if we didn’t do it. I was scared just like Mickey.” 

Cotton stares at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Why did you keep the baby?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Why didn’t you abort it?” 

Svetlana shakes her head. “I couldn’t afford even if I wanted to. Too late now. I will keep baby.” 

He nods, busying himself with eating. They sit in silence for a few minutes, finishing up their bowls of cereal and cleaning up. Cotton makes the decision to let her stay in his room, setting out blankets and pillows onto the couch for himself. They don’t say much for the rest of the day, Cotton busying himself with reading while Svetlana tries to keep to herself, still on edge from this morning’s events. 

Mandy comes home around eight, disappearing into the shower before she acknowledges Cotton. “Hey, bro. How was your day?” 

Cotton ignores the question. “Can you promise not to be angry?” he asks, running his thumb over his lip nervously. 

She pauses in drying her hair, eyebrows raising. “Uh- no, I can’t, but I can try? Why, what happened?” He sighs and leads her to his bedroom, peering in to find Svetlana sleeping soundly in his bed. She blinks in confusion, taking in the very pregnant lady’s appearance. “Uh, who is that?”

“Svetlana,” he answers, closing the door softly. He gets a feeling some yelling is about to start, leading Mandy back into the living room. He shifts on his feet, avoiding his sister’s questioning gaze. “She’s the prostitute dad hired for Mickey.” 

It takes a moment for Mandy to realize what exactly he’s talking about, eyes widening and towel she had tangled in her hair dropping to the floor. “What?! What the fuck is she doing here?” 

He raises his shoulders. “She needs help.” 

“And why the fuck should we care?” she hisses. “Cotton, she-” 

“She’s pregnant, Mands,” he says, trying to keep his voice low. “We can’t-” 

“What, did she say it was Mickey’s?!” she shouts. “Are you fucking dumb, Cotton? That’s obviously a ploy to get a free home!” 

Cotton’s face blanks for a moment, throat tightening a bit. “Mandy, that’s not-” 

“Why the hell are you even offering help to Mickey’s _rapist?!_ ” Mandy practically screams at him, shaking the whole house. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” 

“Shut up, Mandy!” he screams right back, watching her jaw snap shut and jerk back. “Christ, shut up! Let me speak for once! Do you think I wanted to help her?! No! I’m worried about the baby, whether or not it’s Mickey’s! It’s seven months through - too late to abort! She has no job, no home, and can’t even get help without being sent out of the country!” Mandy’s eyes widen as his voice grows, stepping back when he starts waving his hands around. “Don’t you dare call me dumb because I’m worried for an unborn child that might be my niece or nephew! It’s bad enough Iggy and Mickey now hate me! I don’t need you screaming at me after Iggy already did! God!” 

Mandy stares at him, frozen in place as his words sink in. He rubs his face, hands shaking badly. He’s not a screamer. He hates screaming. “Please… just let me help her. It’s not the baby’s fault… I’m not asking Mickey to father it or even be involved at all - I don’t want to hurt him more than I already have. Just… please.” 

Mandy worries her lip between her teeth, looking down at the floor. She sighs heavily, running a hand through her messy, wet hair. “Okay.” Cotton finally looks at her again, expression still guarded. She nods slowly, lifting her eyes from the floor to his face. “Okay, I get it. I’m sorry for yelling.” 

He shrugs weakly. “Used to it.” 

She shakes her head, walking closer and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He hugs her back. “If you need anything, let me know, okay? I’ll talk to Iggy about this, you hear?” 

His eyes tear up a bit, burying his face in her shoulder. “Thank you…” 

She pulls back and smiles, cupping his face to run her thumbs under his eyes. “Mickey’s not too happy?” 

He shakes his head. “No. He… looked at me as if he didn’t know me. He looked at me like how he looks at dad…” 

“Oh, Cotton,” she murmurs, lowering her hands and smiling weakly. “He won’t stay mad forever. You two never could with each other.” 

He smiles back weakly. “I guess.” 

“Mick?” Ian calls softly as he opens their bedroom door, heart breaking at the sight before him. “Mick, you hungry? I bought some burgers.” 

Mickey doesn’t respond, head buried in his hands. His hunched over back faces Ian, completely still but not quiet. Ian can hear labored breathing. He sighs, moving around the bed to sit down beside him. They talked about this earlier right after everyone left. Mickey never thought he’d see her again, and honestly, so did Ian. Mickey didn’t say much about the fact she’s pregnant with apparently his child and Ian didn’t push. They were content for a couple hours, watching TV and enjoying Ian’s day off. Ian went out about an hour ago to pick up groceries and got dinner while he was at it. Mickey must’ve trapped himself in his thoughts about the whole situation. 

“C’mere,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around Mickey. His boyfriend lowers his hands and falls into his side, staring at the floor blankly. Ian rubs his back, pressing a lingering kiss to his head. “Hungry?” 

Mickey sighs, tilting his head up to nuzzle his neck. “A little.” 

Ian studies him for a moment. “Do you wanna eat or talk?” 

He shrugs. “What about it?” 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Just-” Mickey hesitates, frowning against his neck. “Why did Cotton do that? He fucking… is choosing to help her…” 

Ian combs his fingers through his hair, humming softly. “Cotton always wants to help others… you know this.” 

“Even people like her,” Mickey mutters, not as a question but a statement. He shakes his head, sitting up a bit. “I don’t get why he cares so much.” 

“She’s pregnant.” 

Mickey’s throat tightens. “So?”

“Mick, come on,” Ian murmurs. “You know Cotton.” 

Mickey sighs, rubbing his face. “Cares more about the damn thing and it isn’t even his…” 

“You don’t have to care,” Ian says firmly. “You were the victim in this situation. I heard Cotton- he’s only letting her stay until the baby is born and she has somewhere to go. She’s not staying around forever.” Mickey swallows and nods, lifting his head a bit to look at Ian. The Gallagher smiles gently, leaning forward and kissing his cheek. “Come on. Let’s go eat.” 

Mickey’s lips lift just a bit. “Okay.”

A tense week goes by before Cotton hears from Mickey again. 

Mandy and Iggy were locked in a screaming match the next morning, arguing about Svetlana staying and Cotton’s choice on the matter. Cotton and Svetlana stayed hidden in his room, neither speaking or acknowledging the other, just listening to every word his siblings have to offer on the situation. 

In the end, Svetlana stays. Cotton and Iggy hardly talk now, especially when Svetlana is in the room. Only Cotton seems to acknowledge Svetlana is there, Mandy and Iggy choosing to ignore her existence so no fights start up again. Cotton hates this. He’s never had fights like this with any of his siblings before, and he can’t even run to Mickey for comfort. He’s mad at him too. 

Cotton is woken up by someone shaking his shoulder, blinking blearily and rolling onto his back, making sure not to fall off the couch as he looks up at who’s shaking him. He snaps awake quickly, scrambling to his feet and yanking his twin into a hug. “Mick!” 

“Hey,” Mickey murmurs, hugging him back tightly. 

“What’re you doing here?” Cotton asks, reluctant to let him go. He looks at him warily, trying to find any trace of anger on his face. Mickey’s lips twitch into a half smile, shrugging a shoulder. 

“Came by to see you,” he answers. “Kind of weird… I don’t like being angry with you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Cotton mumbles, looking down for a moment. “I just-” 

“I get it,” Mickey interrupts, sighing. “I’m not mad anymore, really. I get why you want to help her.” 

“Really?” 

“You always had a soft spot for kids,” Mickey chuckles. “I can’t be mad at you for that.” 

Cotton beams. The two sit down on the couch, shoving his blankets and pillows aside. “I don’t expect you to want anything to do with it. I just want to make sure it has a stable home, at least.”

“Yeah, I understand,” Mickey nods, leaning back. “I’ll let you do your thing.” 

“Thank you,” Cotton smiles. 

Mickey smiles back, looking around the couch for a moment. “Got booted to the couch, huh?” 

“I’m letting her sleep in my room,” Cotton shrugs. “It’s only two months. Maybe a little less. I’ll be okay.” 

“If you say so,” Mickey hums, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “How’s Blake?” 

Cotton grins. “Same as always.” 

“You ask her out yet?”

“No,” Cotton huffs. “I keep backing out.” 

“Scared?” 

“Yeah…” 

Mickey hums, nudging his shoulder with his. “Don’t be. The worst thing that can happen is she’ll say no.” Cotton rolls his eyes but nods. Mickey smiles and leans his head against his shoulder. “But she’ll say yes. I’m about ninety percent sure.” 

“You’re typically wrong so…” Cotton grins, yelping when Mickey pokes his side harshly. “Don’t poke me!” 

“Don’t insult me!” 

The two laugh, poking at each other before locking into a wrestling match, rolling off the couch and onto the floor. In Cotton’s bedroom doorway stands Svetlana, watching the two with a slight smile on her face. She shakes her head in amusement, disappearing back into his room with the door clicking shut quietly. 

“Very odd,” Svetlana says, picking up a picture frame on Cotton’s dresser. “You two are completely different.” 

Cotton grins, tugging his work shirt on. “Having a mental illness does that sometimes.” 

She hums, pointing at a smaller picture sitting on the corner. “He was blonde too?” 

Cotton looks over at the photo she’s talking about. Cotton and Mickey are about seven in the picture. His mother took that photo while they were at the public pool that summer, the two standing in the water with their arms over each other’s shoulders, the biggest grins on their faces. Mickey’s hair was still blonde at the time, plastered against his forehead from the water while Cotton’s was slightly damp. He never liked dunking his head under. “Yeah, he was. He prefers having dark hair. Makes him look more threatening, I think.” 

She snorts, eyes flicking from photo to photo. She eyes one hanging from the wall. Mickey and Cotton look to be around eleven, sitting on either side of a young girl Svetlana assumes is Mandy. She’s clutching onto one of the twin’s arms with a wide smile, her hair tied into a loose braid. Behind them stands a young teenage boy Svetlana quickly guesses is Iggy, his hair buzzed off and a small smile on his face as well. 

Svetlana points the photo out to Cotton. “Iggy dressed in military clothes?” 

“Yeah, he was in ROTC for a year,” Cotton hums, shrugging a bit. He walks closer to look at the photo. That was taken before his mother took them to go see their father in prison. “He dropped out when mom left us.” 

“Why?” she asks, frowning. 

He shrugs. “Mom always tried to keep dad in line. Took most of the hits and all. When she left, Iggy took her place. He got into the drug business to pay for Mandy’s clothes and make sure we were all fed. He never finished high school.” 

Svetlana eyes flicker with a mix of emotions, following his gaze back to the photo. They all looked so young, so happy. “You finish school, yes?” 

“In a way,” he hums. “I was homeschooled ever since sixth grade.” 

“I see,” she nods. “I was too, though whole life.” 

He hums, the two continuing to silently look at his pictures. He has quite a few, a few in frames on his dresser while the rest are tacked to the wall. Most, if not all, are of the four siblings as children, most likely taken by their mother. She only finds one photo of Mickey and Cotton a little older hanging from his mirror. Mickey’s hair is black in this photo, a relaxed grin on his face as he looks up at the camera with an arm around Cotton’s shoulders. The blonde’s smile is wider, his head pressed into Mickey’s neck and is looking past the camera. Svetlana assumes one of the siblings took this picture. “When was this?” 

“Our sixteenth birthday,” he answers, finally pulling his eyes away to grab his jacket. “We all went to the lake to celebrate.” 

She nods, moving back to sit down on his bed with a grunt. “When will you be home?” 

“Around ten,” he says, checking his pockets for his phone and wallet. He tugs out his phone and jumps a bit. “Oh! Gotta go- Blake is here.” 

She smiles, waving as he jogs out of the bedroom. Sighing, she stares at the wall of photos around his dresser, smiling a bit. They almost looked like a normal family in those - could trick anybody. Her eyes trail down, noticing a ball of paper next to the trash can. She wouldn’t have thought much of it if she didn’t see the slip of color, prompting her to stand and carefully kneel down to grab it. 

Svetlana unfurls the ball, smoothing it out carefully when she realizes it is indeed another photo. Her brows pinch together as she stares at it, glancing over her shoulder at the bedroom door where Cotton disappeared. She presses her lips together and looks at it again, her heart hurting just a tad. 

In the picture, the man who held the gun to her and Mickey that one life-changing day was smiling and holding two newborns in his arms.

“I’ll admit, Mickey, I wasn’t expecting this meeting,” Helen comments as the two sit down in her office, smiling gently. “I thought the nightmares stopped?” 

“They did,” Mickey nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “But that’s not why I’m here.” 

“What happened?” she asks, crossing her legs. “Is your father out?” 

“No, thank fuck,” he sighs. “No, um… the woman he hired that day is back.” 

Her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh?”

“And she’s pregnant with my kid.” 

“Oh, wow,” she gasps, sitting up straight. “How does she know?” 

“Said I’m the only client,” he says client with air quotes, “that didn’t use protection. She came looking for help but…” 

“Did this trigger some memories?” Helen asks. 

“Sort of?” Mickey shrugs. “My brother is letting her stay in his room until she has a place for the baby.” 

“I see,” she nods, frowning a bit. “Are you mad with him?” 

“Not anymore.” 

“So why are we here?” 

He frowns, looking down. “Do I have to forgive her?” 

Helen tilts her head. “That’s up to you, Mickey. Even if you do or don’t, she won’t be around forever, yes?” 

“I guess not,” he nods. “It hurts… seeing her again in my old house. I’m trying to stay away from there while she’s there. It’s pathetic.” 

“No, it isn’t,” she assures. “You are a victim, Mickey. Seeing her will trigger these feelings inside.” He presses his lips together, looking over at her. She smiles, clearing her throat. “How do you feel about having a kid?” 

He laughs dryly. “Fuck that. I’m only nineteen, man.” 

“So you want nothing to do with the child?” 

“No, I don’t,” Mickey sighs. “I’m glad Cotton cares enough to let her stay until the baby has a stable home, but I want nothing to do with them.” 

She nods. “And that’s completely okay, I hope you know.” 

Mickey shoots her a strained smile. “Okay…” 

Mickey sighs tiredly when he locks the front door, checking his phone to see it’s almost seven. He still had to wait an hour for Ian to get home. What he’d give to be in Ian’s arms already. 

He looks around their apartment slowly, biting his lip as he thinks. He’s been throwing the idea around in his head for a couple weeks now, too busy to actually go through with it. Cotton’s words stick out, replacing the voice in his head for a moment. _Make a sweet gesture, Mick._

He shucks off his jacket and heads into the kitchen, rifling through their cabinets for the ingredients. He’s gotten better at cooking since he got shot, though he doesn’t actually cook meals a lot. For the last few weeks, they’ve been living off of take-out for dinner. Mickey thinks this will be a nice break. 

He picks out a few Pixar movies he knows Ian loves, sets up a few blankets on the couch, and even goes as far as to light a small candle at their dinner table. He sets down their plates of spaghetti and grins, proud of how it all turned out. God, this is so gay, but it feels so right. 

“Mick, I’m home!” Ian calls almost ten minutes later, running a hand through his hair with a tired sigh as he makes his way through their home. He’s stopped when Mickey comes up to him and wraps his arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly. Ian hums happily against his lips, dropping his stuff to cup Mickey’s face. “Hello to you too,” he purrs, rubbing his cheeks. 

“Hey, I made dinner,” Mickey grins, grabbing his hands and tugging him along as he walks backward towards their kitchen table. 

Ian’s brows raise. “Oh? What’s the occasion?” 

“No occasion,” Mickey hums, letting go so they can both sit down. “Just wanted to do something nice.” 

“You’re so sweet,” Ian breathes, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Smells good too.” 

Mickey grins, shrugging a shoulder as he begins to dig in. “How was work?”

“Quiet,” Ian hums, twirling his fork into the noodles. “Nothing major, thankfully. Think we only went out twice.” 

“That’s good, right?” Mickey asks. 

“Definitely,” Ian smiles. “Means no one was hurt too bad today.” 

“Weird since this is the fucking southside,” Mickey chuckles. 

Ian hums in agreement, the two falling quiet as they eat. So far, this was a great idea. Mickey has to remember to thank Cotton later for being such a romantic. If he does go out with Blake, she’ll be a lucky girl. Cotton’s heart is too sweet for his own good, but it’s what makes him endearing. 

They save the chore of dishes for later. Ian chuckles as Mickey tugs him to the couch, looking over the blankets and pillows while Mickey picks out a movie for them to watch. His heart warms at the gesture, pressing a kiss to Mickey’s temple before moving to go change into something comfier. 

“This is nice,” Ian murmurs after they’ve settled down on the couch, his arm wrapped around Mickey’s waist and head resting against Mickey’s. “Really nice…” 

Mickey hums, tilting his head a bit to kiss his neck. “I’m glad.” 

“What sparked this?” 

“Nothing,” Mickey shrugs, smiling and looking back at the TV. “Just… wanted to relax with you, y’know?” 

Ian smiles against his hair, tugging him closer. “You’re too sweet, y’know?” 

Mickey scoffs. “Don’t get used to it.” 

Ian laughs softly. “Obviously.” 

Mickey bites his lip, nuzzling closer to him. “I love you, Ian…” he murmurs. 

Ian runs his fingers through his hair, smile wide on his face. “I love you too, Mick.” 

“Sean, can I take my lunch break?” Cotton asks, setting down the dishes in the sink. Sean grunts in affirmation, looking through some paperwork Cotton isn’t sure what it’s for. He hums and pulls off his apron, stepping out of the kitchen and walking around the front to the counter. 

“Hey,” Blake catches his attention, sliding a plate of grilled cheese over to him, “got this made for you earlier.” 

“Oh!” Cotton grins, taking the plate. “Thanks! Do you want-”

“No, it’s okay,” she grins, leaning against the counter with him. “Though, I do wanna talk about you with something.” He hums in question through a bite, looking at her curiously. She tilts her head and examines him for a few moments, crossing her arms and taking a deep breath. “Would you like to go out sometime?” Cotton freezes, eyes widening at the question. She grins a bit, ducking her head. “Y’know, for lunch or dinner? Whatever sounds good?” 

Holy crap, did she just ask him out? Cotton quickly finishes chewing and swallowing his bite, unable to stop the smile on his face. “Y-Yeah! Yes, I would love to.” 

She beams, uncrossing her arms as she stands up straight. “Great! Cool, we should- yeah, we’ll make some plans. I’ll text you later?” 

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

“Cool,” she nods, patting his arm as she walks by to work. He bites his lip, his body aching to jump up and down and cheer. He holds it down though, continuing to munch down on his food with a huge smile on his face. 

Lip hums in surprise when he finds Ian in the Gallagher kitchen, walking past him for the fridge. “Hey, man. What’re you doing here?” 

“On my lunch break,” Ian explains, leaning against the counter. “Been kind of chilling.” Lip nods, digging out the carton of orange juice. Ian watches him silently for a moment. “Has Mandy talked to you about what’s going on?”

Lip pauses. “Um… about what?” 

Ian sighs heavily, wringing his hands together. “The prostitute Terry hired for Mickey a while back is staying at Iggy’s place. She’s pregnant.” 

Lip looks up, eyes almost bulging out of his head. “Seriously? Is it his?” 

“She says it is,” Ian mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I’m… Cotton is letting her stay. Mickey is taking it hard but the two made up…” 

“Mickey and the prostitute?”

“No, Mickey and Cotton.”

“Oh shit, they fought?” 

“More like Mickey gave him the silent treatment for a week,” Ian chuckles dryly, shaking his head. “He wasn’t too happy with Cotton taking the chick in, but he forgave him.” 

“Hm,” Lip frowns, shrugging a shoulder with a confused pinch between his eyebrows. “She staying?” 

“Until the baby is born,” Ian answers. “Mickey’s not gonna have anything to do with them as far as I know.” 

Lip nods slowly, clearing his throat. “Is there a chance he will?”

“Will what?”

“Want something to do with them? Or at least the kid.” 

“I highly doubt it,” Ian huffs, shaking his head. “Mickey has been avoiding that house as much as he can. Doesn’t want to run into her.” 

“Fair,” Lip hums, putting the carton back after pouring himself a glass. “You guys still seeing that Helen chick?” 

“Yeah,” Ian nods. “Mickey went alone the other day while I was at work. Seems less tense about the whole situation now.” 

“Good,” Lip nods. Ian smiles weakly, the two falling quiet. He’s not sure how to feel about the whole thing. The moment he recognized that woman, he wished he answered the door first so Mickey never had to know she was back. He’s not angry with Cotton for his decision on the matter, but he’s worried about Mickey. While the whole scene fucked him over too, Mickey had experienced the worst part of it all. Ian wants nothing more than to go back in time and fix everything. 

“-meet up later tonight, yeah?” Ian looks up at Fiona’s voice, eyebrows raising in surprise when he sees Iggy following her down the stairs. 

Iggy shoots her a charming grin, heading for the front door. “Yeah, totally. I’ll text you.” 

Fiona waves him off as he leaves, walking into the kitchen after the door clicks shut. She hums to herself as she walks into the kitchen to grab herself some food, pausing when she feels her brothers’ eyes on her. “What?”

Ian grins slowly. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“Why was Iggy here?”

She purses her lips, turning to look through the fridge. “Just talking.” 

Ian laughs. “Are you getting the hots for Mick’s brother?” 

“Maybe? So what?”

Lip snorts. “What’s up with us, huh?”

“Seems that family has us wrapped around their fingers,” Ian shakes his head, chuckling softly while Fiona rolls her eyes. Ian sighs, checking his phone. “My break will be over soon. I should run.”

“Alright, don’t do anything stupid,” Lip says, sliding past Fiona for the stairs. “And keep me updated on that whole prostitute deal.”

“Oh, you mean Svetlana?” Fiona pipes up. 

“You know?”

“Iggy told me,” she hums, ignoring Ian’s smirk. “He’s not too happy - spilled the whole situation to me.” 

“Yeah, him and Cotton are still ignoring each other,” Ian sighs, shaking his head. He grabs his jacket and opens the back door. “I’ll catch you guys later.” 

“See ya!” both older siblings say, waving until the back door shuts. 

“Iggy, I’m here!” Mickey calls out as he comes through the front door. The two have a run to go on tonight and he wants to get that done before Ian comes home. He has plans with his ginger boyfriend. He frowns when he receives no response, walking through the living room and into the kitchen. “Ig!” 

“He’s not back yet.” Mickey jumps, spinning around to find Svetlana leaning against Cotton’s bedroom door frame. Her hands rub against her very swollen belly idly, watching Mickey with a blank stare. “He went Gallagher place.” 

“Oh, okay,” Mickey nods curtly, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking away from her. This is the first time they’ve spoken since she first showed up, and boy was Mickey uncomfortable. They stand in silence for a few minutes, listening to cars drive by and people yelling down the street. Surprisingly, he breaks the silence first. “Um… how far along are you?” 

Svetlana hums, glancing down at her stomach. “Eight months.” 

He nods, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb. “Cool.” 

She tilts her head, looking him over quietly before she starts waddling for the couch. Mickey watches her smooth down Cotton’s blankets before she sits down, unsure of what to do. He hardly knows this woman. Should he try to get to know her? Wait, no, fuck that. “When does your father get out?” 

Mickey looks at her in confusion, frowning heavily as he takes in her question. “Fifteen years. Eight if he’s lucky.” 

“Hopefully someone stab him,” she hums, looking over her shoulder at him. “Could probably hire someone.” 

Mickey stares at her, slowly moving to sit down on the couch across from her. “Seriously?” 

She raises an eyebrow, reaching over to pull a blanket over her legs. “What? Surprised I want him dead too?” 

“A little,” Mickey says sheepishly, averting his eyes. “You did keep the damn thing…” 

“Couldn’t afford,” she explains calmly, drumming her fingers against her stomach. “Was not left with much money when father sold me. Can hardly pay for home and food. Got evicted when I was let go for next two months.” 

“Is that why…?” 

“Yes,” she nods. “I understand you don’t want to see me, though.” Mickey glances at her, noticing the way her gaze softened. He locks his jaw and looks away, tapping his fingers against his thigh. Svetlana sighs. “I regret it.” 

“Huh?” 

“I regret fucking you,” she says. “I didn’t want to do it.” 

“You… didn’t?” Mickey almost murmurs, looking at her in disbelief. 

“No,” Svetlana huffs, running a hand through her hair. “Usually I don’t want to do it, but it is job. I get paid to jerk off little skin sticks, let them fuck me even if I don’t like feeling anymore. However, they all want it. You didn’t - it was obvious. But big man had gun. I was scared. Wasn’t sure what was happening but he had gun, so I did what he said.” 

Mickey wrings his hands together, frowning a bit. “I… didn’t even think about that.” 

“You have no reason to,” Svetlana says gently. “You were a victim.” 

“Well- so were you,” Mickey huffs, waving his hand around uselessly. “If you didn’t want to either…” he trails off, catching the slight smile twitching on her lips. He sighs heavily and rubs his temple for a moment, gesturing to her. “Um… do you know what it is yet?” 

“No, keeping it a surprise,” she hums, looking down at her stomach. “Come here.” 

“Huh?” 

“Come,” she waves him over. Mickey frowns and slowly makes his way over, hesitantly sitting down next to her. She holds out a hand and waits until he sets his hand in hers - albeit, very confused - tugging gently and laying his hand flat over her belly. He raises an eyebrow, looking between her and their hands resting on her belly. Then he feels it. 

“What the fuck?” he mumbles, feeling tiny little bumps hitting his palm. “Is that-?” 

“Yes,” she grins, watching him in amusement. “Baby likes whenever someone touches my belly. Baby likes your twin a lot.”

Mickey scoffs, staring at where his hand rests. “I’m not surprised. Everybody likes Cotton. He’s unhateable.” 

The two chuckle, falling quiet as the baby continues to kick under his touch. A small smile makes its way onto Mickey’s face, Svetlana noting how his stance relaxed beside her. He only pulls his hand away when the front door opens, the two looking up to find Iggy and Joey running in. “Took you fucks so long?” Mickey gripes, shooting them an annoyed glare. 

“Don’t ask,” Joey huffs, snatching an open beer can from the coffee table and downing it. 

“The fuck you two doing?” Iggy asks, voice a bit hard. 

Mickey shrugs, getting to his feet. “Talking. We gonna do this or what?” 

“Yeah yeah, let me grab my blade,” Iggy grumbles, disappearing into his room. 

“Does this look okay?” Cotton asks, fixing the collar of his tight, dark grey dress shirt. 

Svetlana and Mandy look him up and down when he turns to face them, both sharing a glance before Mandy stands up. “You look too formal,” she says, helping Cotton roll up his sleeves. “It’s just lunch, Cotton. You can look nice and casual.” 

Cotton pouts but lets her work. “I don’t wanna look like a mess.” 

“You won’t,” Svetlana assures, leaning back on her hands. “You just need to loosen up a bit. You look uptight.” 

Cotton struggles for a moment when Mandy begins to unbutton the top buttons of his shirt but relents, watching her untuck his shirt and smooth it out. She steps back and looks him over again, both her and Svetlana sharing a grin. “Much better.” 

Cotton looks at himself in the mirror. He can’t help but chuckle. “I look like Mick.” 

“Yeah, but cuter,” Mandy chides, reaching up to fix his hair. “Remember to be polite and shit. Hold the door open, pay the bill, give her your jacket if she’s cold. All the cliches. Chicks dig it.”

Cotton rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I got it. I know how to be a gentleman.”

Mandy grins, sitting back down next to Svetlana. “Can’t wait to meet this chick. When you gonna bring her home?” 

“Hopefully someday,” Cotton shrugs, grabbing his stuff. He checks his phone when it vibrates in his hand, beaming at the message. “She’s here. I’ll see you guys later.” 

“Have fun,” Mandy calls after him. 

“Leave good impression,” Svetlana calls out. 

Cotton hums and shuts the door behind him, looking up and pausing in surprise. Blake stands at the curb, leaning back against her car with the prettiest smile on her face. Her blonde hair rests over her shoulder, all wavy and blowing just slightly with the breeze. She’s wearing a black blouse with a low v-neck and short sleeves, a pair of dark jeans framing her body nicely to match. His cheeks heat up, quickly moving his legs so he doesn’t continue to stand there like an edit. 

“Hey, cutie,” she grins, standing up straight. Her grin widens when Cotton stutters, the pink in his cheeks deepening. She reaches over and opens the passenger door, nodding her head towards the seat. “Hop in. I’m feeling burgers.” 

Cotton stands there dumbfounded for a moment before nodding, sliding into the car and watching her close the door for him. He’s confused for a moment - considering he was told he has to do that - but shakes it off. Blake slides into the driver seat, starting up her engine again. Cotton clears his throat and smiles at her. “Burgers sound good.” 

They drive to a small but casual eating place downtown just a few streets over from their job. Cotton’s never been here before but Blake assures him they have some of the best burgers in Chicago. People chatter excitedly inside, the energy warm and welcoming. Cotton follows Blake through the rush of moving waiters, the two sitting down at a booth near the back. 

After they order their drinks and food, Blake leans against her hand and smiles at him. “So, Cotton, this your first date?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, slightly embarrassed. “You?” 

“Been on a couple in high school,” she hums, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Not all that great, but I had a thing for jocks back then.” Cotton tilts his head, a curious expression on his face. “Well, all jocks are typically assholes, especially the ones that asked me out. I was a cheerleader, you know?”

“Really?” Cotton gasps, eyes wide in surprise. 

She laughs. “Yeah, really. Did all the weird flip shit and wore too-short skirts. Was kind of expected of me to date jocks so I did, though they never really stuck?” 

Cotton fiddles with his napkin. “I’m no jock. Never played a single sport in my life unless shooting guns with Iggy counts.” 

Her eyes soften. “Cheerleading was fun for the first two years, then I got trapped in drama and the excitement died.” 

He pouts. “That’s no fun.” 

“Schools here are absolute shit,” she shakes her head. “Guess you were lucky to not experience it.” 

“Maybe,” he hums. “I’m not exactly good with social cues.” 

“Neither were most of the jackasses in school,” she giggles, pulling a soft laugh from the man. “Though I do wish I met you sooner.” 

“How come?” he asks. 

Blake’s lips quirk into a soft grin, shaking her head. “I really like you, and I know I would like you back then too. Could’ve saved me from a bunch of bad boyfriends.” 

He blushes, ducking his head with a shy shrug. “I really like you too.” 

They continue to talk after their food arrives, shooting stories back and forth of their younger years. Cotton tells her about Iggy going to ROTC and Blake adds that her uncle was in the military for some time too. Blake tells him how she found Mia on the side of the road in a broken-down box and Cotton tells her how he and Mickey once tried to sneak a stray cat into the house because they wanted a pet. Iggy ended up finding out and the three went around the neighborhood to find the owner. 

“Here is your bill,” the waitress says, setting the check down in the middle of the table. “Thank you for joining us, we hope to see you again.” 

Cotton waves happily as she leaves, grinning when she waves back. Blake shakes her head in amusement and grabs the receipt, tugging out her wallet. Cotton perks up. “Oh wait, I can-”

“I got it, don’t worry,” she hums, counting through her cash. 

“But shouldn’t I…?” he trails off, slightly confused. 

“I asked you out, didn’t I?” she grins, looking up at him. He presses his lips together and nods slowly. “Then I pay. It’d be weird to ask you out then have you pay, yeah?” 

“I guess,” he murmurs, watching her set the bills down and stand up, following suit. “My siblings just told me-” 

“No need to explain, I get it,” she chuckles, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and guiding him out of the building. “But fuck tradition, right? Next time, if you pick the place, you can pay.” 

He looks up at her at that. “Next time?” 

She grins. “Well, I’m totally hoping for a second date. That is if you want to as well?”

“Yeah! Yes, definitely,” Cotton grins, nodding. “I’d love to.” 

Blake’s grin widens, leaning down and kissing his cheek. “Can’t wait.”

Mickey laughs as he opens the front door of the Milkovich home. “I’m telling you! That is such a dom personality trait!” 

“Do you have to make everything about sex?” Cotton groans, shoving his twin in annoyance. 

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Mickey winks, quickly ducking to avoid a punch in the shoulder. Their laughter dies down as they enter the living room, both pausing when they find Iggy and Mandy glaring at one another, both slowly looking at the twins. Mickey’s grin falters, looking between the two. “Fuck’s going on here?” 

“Iggy’s being a fucking prick,” Mandy spits out. 

“I’m not the one harboring a rapist,” Iggy snarls. 

“She’s not staying forever!” Mandy snaps. “She’s pregnant!” 

“With Mickey’s kid who’s the victim in this scenario!” 

“Where’s Svet?” Cotton asks. 

“Why the fuck do you care about her?” Iggy now turns his anger on Cotton, throwing his arms up. “She fucking raped our brother!” 

Mickey flinches, looking between the three in confusion. Mandy scoffs, punching Iggy’s arm harshly. “Say it fucking louder, I don’t think the whole block heard you!” 

“You shut the fuck up!”

“Stop screaming!” Cotton snaps, grabbing Mickey’s hand. “Iggy, I thought we went through this-” 

“Yet, I still don’t fucking get why-”

“Outside!” Mickey suddenly shouts, silencing all three of them. He points to the front door, eyes narrowed. “Now.” 

Iggy and Mandy huff and stomp out, Cotton slowly following after them. Mickey glances over at Svetlana in the doorway of Cotton’s room. She looks distraught, hands clutching her belly protectively. Mickey wonders if Iggy tried to kick her out. He rubs his face and nods curtly at her, walking outside and slamming the front door shut after him. “Iggy, the fuck are you hung up about?” 

Iggy’s eyes practically bulge out of his head, waving a hand at the house. “Cotton is letting a fucking ra-” 

“I forgave her,” Mickey interrupts, effectively silencing his older brother. Cotton and Mandy look at him in shock, clearly not expecting that answer. He takes a deep breath and lowers his voice a bit, annoyed at the idea of their neighbors hearing this. “I forgave her, Ig.” 

“What…” he falters, face pinched in confusion. “Why? When?” 

“Seriously?” Mandy breathes, arms crossed over her chest. 

Mickey nods slowly, looking between the three. “I talked to her the other day. She… fuck, guys… she’s a victim too.” 

“How?” Iggy growls. 

“She regrets it,” Mickey starts, looking down at the ground. “She knew I didn’t want it and didn’t want to do anything with me, but… dad had a gun, Ig. Had it pointed right at us. What else was she supposed to do, huh? Say no and get shot? She’s an illegal Russian prostitute - no one would come looking for her if she got killed. What was she supposed to do?” 

He looks back up at Iggy’s silence, finding a pained expression on his brother’s face. Mandy stares at the ground, fighting back her own tears. He looks and meets Cotton’s gaze, both starting to blur with tears. When Iggy lets out a shuddering breath, they all move. 

Iggy grabs Mickey first, hugging him tightly against his chest. Mickey doesn’t freeze like last time, grabbing onto the back of his shirt and holding tight. Mandy slips into the hug as well, Iggy shifting an arm around her shoulders while her arms wrap around the two of them. Mickey shifts an arm around Cotton when he comes closer, the four holding onto each other in an awkward but comforting hug. 

“I wish I could’ve protected you guys,” Iggy whispers, pressing his face into Mickey’s hair. “I should’ve…” 

“It’s not your fault,” Mandy murmurs, tears finally slipping down her cheeks. “None of this is.” 

They never really talk about the shit Terry did to them. It’s easier to keep it buried down, believing if they don’t discuss it, then Terry loses. He didn’t get to them. But he did - he tore at them every damn day, slowly but surely breaking them apart on the inside. 

Iggy was technically the favorite of the bunch, but he still got his fair share of abuse. Degraded for months for joining ROTC, praised only for making good money doing Terry’s dirty work in the drug business. The first time he ever fought him was when he found out he raped his sister, but he didn’t win that fight - landed in the hospital from how bad Terry beat him. Because of this, Mandy never told Mickey or Cotton. 

Out of the four, Cotton was abused less. The most Terry would do is smack him around or throw a glass bottle at him, only sometimes actually hitting him. The man acknowledged the kid was mentally challenged and never put him to work, but it didn’t stop his slew of insults and slurs that usually flew over Cotton’s head. It stung the other siblings, though. 

“I’m sorry,” Iggy whispers, arm tightening around Mandy. “I’m so sorry…” 

Mickey sniffs, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid crying. He hates crying in front of them. The four slowly untangle from the hug, not even attempting to smile as everything starts to settle. Mandy takes a deep breath, breaking the silence. “Are we done fighting over this now?” 

The twins look at Iggy, relaxing when he nods. Cotton beams slightly, wiping the trail of tears off his cheeks and turning to head back inside. Mandy follows after him, hugging herself and smiling weakly at the blonde. Mickey turns to Iggy after a few moments of them standing there in silence, a grim smile on his face. “I’m okay, Ig. I’m okay with her being here.” 

“You’re sure?” Iggy asks softly. Mickey nods - sure, it still hurts to see her at times, especially in the house, but he’s working on it. He forgives her, just not his father for forcing this upon them. Iggy smiles and nods, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and leading him back up the porch. “Okay, bro.” 

“Can you pick up dinner on your way home?” Mickey asks, balancing his phone between his head and shoulder as he goes through their mail. “I’m not in the mood to cook today.” 

“Sure, babe,” Ian says, shuffling coming from his end. His lunch break is just about over. “Thinking burgers? Chicken? Pizza?” 

“Pizza sounds good,” Mickey grins, opening up their bill. “Movie night?”

“Please, I could use some cuddles tonight,” Ian sighs tiredly. “I’ll be home around seven.” 

“I’ll be here,” Mickey hums. “Love you.” 

“Love you too,” Ian says softly, making a kissing noise before the line goes dead. Mickey rolls his eyes and tosses his phone aside, shaking his head in amusement. Okay, bills… Their rent is due next week, but Mickey knows they have that covered. Really, they have all of these covered. It’s nice having money. 

He’s distracted by his phone vibrating, glancing at the screen to see Cotton’s ID pop up. He picks up his phone and tucks it back between his head and shoulder after hitting _answer_ , picking up and opening another letter. “Hey, Cotton.”

“Mick, I wasn’t sure if I should’ve called but-” Cotton’s talking fast, stumbling over his words. Mickey pauses, frowning as he listens. He can hear the sound of an engine and a few female voices. “Svet’s water broke. We’re on our way to the hospital.” 

Mickey drops his mail, grabbing his phone quickly when his head jerks up. “What? Her water broke?”

“Yeah,” Cotton says, voice filled with worry. “We’re in Blake’s car right now. I think we’re five minutes away from the hospital?” Mickey hears a woman’s voice speak up but can’t make out what she’s saying. She sounds like Mandy. “Yeah, five minutes.” 

Mickey moves quickly, yanking his shoes on and searching the kitchen for his wallet. “What hospital? I’m calling an uber.” 

Cotton rattles off the address while Mickey texts for an uber, heart pounding in his chest. Holy shit, Svetlana is going into labor. Their kid is going to be born today. Oh fuck. 

They hang up when they get to the hospital, just in time for Mickey’s uber driver to show up. He taps his leg anxiously as the man drives, texting Ian the news. He’s not sure if Ian can check his phone right now. He also texts Fiona, immediately receiving a text back asking for the hospital. She lets him know her, Iggy, and Lip are on their way. Mickey’s nerves settle a smidge. 

He pays the driver and rushes into the hospital, relief washing over him for a moment when the front desk doesn’t have a line. “Hi, uh- I’m here for Svetlana? She’s having my kid.” 

The lady glances at him before turning to her computer, typing up Svetlana’s name. “Name?”

“Mickey Milkovich,” he answers, tapping his fingers against the counter anxiously. 

She reads over something on the screen. “Mikhailo?” 

“Yeah, that’s me.” 

“Yes, your brother and sister informed me of your arrival,” she nods, smiling at him. “Second floor, room one forty-two.” 

“Thank you,” he nods, dashing for the stairs. Fuck the elevator, it always takes too long. 

“Mick!” Cotton grins when Mickey comes down the hall, standing next to a blonde woman Mickey doesn’t know. “Hey, you made it!” 

“Obviously,” Mickey breathes out a laugh when he stops next to him, running a hand through his hair. “How is she?”

“Okay, I think,” Cotton hums. “Mandy’s in there with her. I don’t know how this works so…” 

“She’s still in the first stage of labor,” the woman chimes in, slipping her hands into her pockets. “Will be for a while.” She notices Mickey staring at her and quickly holds out a hand. “I’m Blake.” 

“Oh!” Mickey looks at her in surprise, shaking her hand. “Oh yeah, Cotton talks about you all the time.” He snickers when Cotton whacks his arm while she grins. “Um- am I able to go in there?” 

“Yeah,” Blake nods. “She can have three people there and only Mandy is in there.” 

Mickey nods and takes a deep breath, slipping into the hospital room. First thing he hears is Svetlana’s cursing, spotting her lying propped up on the bed with Mandy at her side and a nurse off to the side looking something over. Mandy spots him first, perking up. “Hey, Mick.” 

Svetlana pries her eyes open and looks at Mickey, pointing at him threateningly. “You are lucky you are man with penis.” 

“Yeah, I can easily agree with that,” Mickey snorts, sitting down in the chair next to her bed. “You look like shit.” 

Mandy shoots him an annoyed glare while Svetlana reaches up and whacks his head, ignoring his scowl. “Thank you, Mr. Charmer. Can I lie here in pain without your insults?”

“Sure,” Mickey chuckles, hesitantly grabbing her hand. “Anything we can do?” 

“At the moment, no,” Svetlana huffs, squeezing his hand. She flinches and Mickey assumes she had a contraction. “Just sit there and look pretty.” 

Mickey rolls his eyes while Mandy laughs. 

Ian springs out of his car before he even fully pulls his keys out, rushing into the hospital and easily making it past the front desk because of his uniform. Just ten minutes ago, his shift ended and he finally checked his phone. Multiple texts from Mickey and Lip, a few missed calls from Fiona. Apparently Svetlana went into labor a few hours ago. 

Ian hasn’t exactly gotten on good terms with Svetlana yet, but he and Mickey talked about the conversation the two had. When Mickey admitted he forgave her, Ian was happy he was able to move on for the better. Maybe one day, Ian can forgive her too. 

He finds the others in the waiting room. “Fi!” he exclaims, rushing to her side as she stands. “Hey- I just got off work. Where’s Mickey?” 

“He’s in the room with Svetlana and Mandy,” she tells him. “Blake says she can have three guests, so you can go if you want. Have to get a nurse first.” 

“Who’s Blake?” he asks. 

“Me,” Blake raises a hand, standing next to Cotton by the wall. Ian looks between them and connects the dots, letting a grin twitch at his lips before he turns back to his sister. “So I can go?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” she ushers him to the doors. “Second floor, room one forty-two. Keep us updated!” Ian shoots her a thumbs up, jogging off for the stairs. Elevators take too long. 

He’s able to get a nurse to allow him inside, staying close to the door as he peers in. His eyes widen when he hears the sound of a baby crying, looking around the room as he keeps his distance. 

Svetlana lies practically limp on the bed, eyes closed and chest heaving. Mandy sits at her side, wiping her face gently with a wet rag and murmuring softly to her. It takes a moment to spot Mickey, who’s standing with the nurses off to the side. Ian stays where he is, watching the aftermath play out in silence. Once the doctor congratulates Svetlana and leaves, the air begins to calm down. 

“He said boy?” Svetlana asks softly after a few moments, looking over at the nurses. “It’s boy?”

Mickey finally turns around, the softest grin Ian has ever seen on his face. He walks back over to Svetlana, gently handing off the squirming bundle to her. “Yeah… it’s a boy.” 

Svetlana coos softly at the small bundle, adjusting him in her arms and smiling for the first time Ian has seen since she showed up at his doorstep. She glances up at Mickey, giggling a bit. “He looks like you.” 

“He’s blonde,” Mickey says softly, staring down at the baby. 

“You used to be blonde,” she points out, reaching up to brush her fingers over the baby’s head gently. “He has your eyes too.” 

“Shit,” Mickey breathes, cocking his head and grinning. “Reminds me of Cotton.” 

Ian smiles, finally moving closer into view. Mandy spots him first, grinning silently at him. Mickey catches sight of him out of the corner of his eye, quickly grabbing his arm and tugging him to his side. “Took you fucking long enough.” 

“Sorry, babe,” Ian murmurs, kissing his cheek. He looks down at the baby boy in Svetlana’s arms, heart melting at the sight. The baby does look like Mickey - or, really like Cotton since he has blonde hair. Bright blue eyes flick between the four adults, tiny hands grabbing at Svetlana’s fingers curiously. Ian falls in love right there, all of his dark memories of that day disappearing from his mind in this moment. “He’s beautiful…” 

Mickey leans into him, humming in agreement. “What’re you naming him?” 

Svetlana wiggles her fingers gently. “Yevgeny. After my father.” 

Mickey frowns. “Your father? The guy who sold you to be a prostitute?” 

“He was good man,” she shrugs, pressing her lips to the top of the baby’s head. “Taught me many things.” 

“Yeah, clearly,” Mickey huffs, earning a whack in the arm by Svetlana. Ian laughs, ignoring Mickey’s scowl directed at him. 

“He does look like us,” Cotton whispers, peering into the basket hovering next to Svetlana’s bed. “He has blue eyes too?” 

“Yeah,” Mickey murmurs, unable to pull his eyes away from the sleeping baby. “He’s quiet too so far. Unlike us.” 

Cotton snickers, nudging him gently with his elbow. “Mom always did say we were the worst criers out of the four of us.” 

“Guess Svet wasn’t a crier,” Mickey hums, glancing over at the sleeping woman. She passed out after she fed Yevgeny, completely exhausted. Mandy left after they put Yevgeny down to sleep, catching a ride home with the older Gallagher siblings and Iggy. Blake left about an hour ago since she has an early shift tomorrow. 

Mickey looks over at where Ian is dozing in the chair beside Svetlana’s bed, leaning against his hand and snoring just slightly. Mickey smiles, checking the time. Almost midnight. “Hey, we’re gonna head home. Need a ride?” 

“I don’t have work tomorrow,” Cotton hums. “I’ll stay here tonight. So she isn’t alone when she wakes up.” 

Mickey’s gaze softens, lifting a hand to ruffle Cotton’s hair gently. “You’re too sweet, y’know?” 

“Truly makes us wonder how we’re twins,” Cotton teases. 

“Shut up,” Mickey snorts, shaking his head and moving around the bed to Ian’s side. He shakes his shoulder gently, kissing the side of his head when his eyes flutter open. “Hey, it’s late. Ready to head home?” 

“Mm, yeah,” Ian yawns, stretching his arms over his head and getting to his feet. “What about Cotton?”

“He’s staying,” Mickey whispers, nodding curtly at his twin before heading out the door. Cotton waves quietly as they leave, taking Ian’s seat. He smiles and leans back in the chair, listening to Svetlana and Yevgeny’s quiet breathing, heart swelling with happiness. He’s an uncle. Holy shit, he has a nephew. A beautiful nephew. 

He’s happy something amazing came out of this horrible situation.

**Author's Note:**

> Look at all my babies growing up! Their relationships are everything to me. 
> 
> This series is far from over! In the next one-shot, we're tackling another major theme: Ian's Bipolar Disorder. It'll be fairly similar to season five's portrayal, but other events will take place as well, including a lot of Ian and Cotton bonding, so prepare yourselves!


End file.
